


Buy Back

by honiedpanda4



Category: Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Found Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25695988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honiedpanda4/pseuds/honiedpanda4
Summary: for friendfixchange 8/5/2020
Kudos: 3
Collections: Fanfic Roulette 2020 Round 2





	Buy Back

Coffee is what made them a family.

It sounds like a sad attempt at a marketing scheme, but it’s true. Had they not all been at the same place at the same time, working side by side, they would never have found one another. They would never have shared the dream that kept them going. 

It started with Loki and Thor. Loki was the owner/manager of a shitty little coffee shop. He was an older guy, older than the rest of the employees by at least a decade or two, but he played pranks and amused himself almost like a child. Thor was just his meathead nephew. Or cousin. Or something. They were  _ actually _ related somehow and that’s all anybody really knew. Thor was usually sweet enough, but when his temper flared, he could do some serious damage. And no one knew how to push his buttons quite like Loki. Hiring Forseti when they did was less a choice, and more a necessity. His diligence, mediation skills, and even-temperedness earned them their first regular customers, though even he was unable to resolve the quarreling relatives’ disputes. 

After a particularly egregious outburst on Thor’s part involving a display case and Loki’s face, Járnsaxa joined the team. Thor got kicked back into the kitchen, where at least customers wouldn’t have to see the carnage if he and Loki had another row, and Járnsaxa took turns making drinks and manning the register with Forseti. She hadn’t had a “real job” before that, and she was rough around the edges, but she was steadfast and smart. In only a few months’ time, the teamwork between the four grew seamless despite their individual dysfunctionality. Járnsaxa made drinks and did as little of the talking as possible, content to be busy with her hands. Forseti manned the register and did all of the talking for everyone. Thor proved his merit repeatedly in the kitchen, even coming up with new and exciting menu items. Loki schmoozed with customers and investors alike, helped out in the front or the kitchen when necessary, and spent a lot of time scheming. What exactly he was up to, nobody really knew. They didn’t much care, either, as long as the shop stayed open and they kept getting paid.

Their customer base ballooned. They were less a hole-in-the-wall now. They were “up-and-coming” according to one reviewer. Things were changing rapidly. Járnsaxa and Forseti were getting overwhelmed at the counter. Thor, whose behavioral problems had started to finally subside, smashed a microwave in his frustration as he repeatedly became unable to fulfill all of the orders. Loki was losing the trust of his clients and funders by the second. 

They were both relieved and wary when Sif was hired.

Forseti was first in line for the manager position when Loki decided to focus solely on the business side of things, trying to keep up their connections and their finances. He took on the job with trepidation, but soon showed he was not only worthy, but excelling. Sif took over the register. Her soft smile and gentle voice made damn near every customer’s day. She was always pleasant, always polite, and the half-masked sadness behind her eyes kept a steady stream of tips and words of encouragement going throughout the day. She was still aloof with the other employees, and they didn’t like that much. Forseti was the one who came up with “family dinner”, as they came to call it. Every Thursday night, after closing, they’d sit and share a meal together. It was a time to build up team morale, get to know each other, and learn to fit another person into their semi-dysfunctional little group.

“So, girlie,” Járnsaxa had said around a mouthful of food, “what’s your sob story?” Sif blinked those storm-grey eyes.

“Sob story?” she repeated.

“Yeah. Like, the thing that made you end up working at a dingy little place like this.”

“Hey, it’s not dingy!” Loki defended. “At least, not anymore.” Járnsaxa waved a dismissive hand.

“Whatever. So what’s the story?”

Sif fiddled with her rings.

“Well, I’m from the countryside. My parents died when I was young, so I grew up on my grandparents’ farm. As they got older, I did a lot of the work myself, but they’d always left the finances to my uncle. He stole a lot of money from us. We ended up bankrupt. Had to sell the farm just to pay off the debts. Now they live with one of my cousins. They want to come out here to live with me but they’d just be cramped in a tiny apartment. And even with two jobs I can’t pay the rent for an entire apartment by myself. I live with four other girls right now. And not because you’re not paying me well,” she added hurriedly, “because you are. I know you pay me way more than most in this line of work. It’s just… not enough for me  _ and _ my grandparents. So my grandma sells jewelry and blankets online to try and earn their keep at my cousin’s. I don’t think they know I send most of my pay to them anyway.” She sighed a little. The other four exchanged wide-eyed glances. Forseti wrapped an arm over her shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. We get it. We’ve all got sob stories of our own.”

“Yeah! I mean, obviously not as tragic, but I was gonna be an Olympic fencer. I got injured and can’t anymore. Now I just work here ‘cause I don’t have anything better to do.” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Járnsaxa. Glad to know this place is just a hobby for you.”

“I’ve made it clear a million times: this is temporary. Just until I find my calling. Then I’m outta here,” she explained, more for Sif’s benefit than anything else. Loki waved his hand.

“Whatever. I only ended up opening this stupid place out of sheer luck. Right place, right time.” He smirked. “This is the most successful I’ve been at something my whole life, so I guess for once I made a wise investment.”

“I worked at a lumber yard growing up,” Thor piped up. “Then I got recruited by the military. Got discharged and now I work here. I compete in Strong Man competitions sometimes and run the strength test at the annual Renaissance Faire, but that’s about it.”   
“You’re welcome for the job, by the way.”

“Loki, shut  _ up _ !” 

“Guys, please! No fighting at the table, come on!” Forseti cried.

“What about you?” Sif asked. “What’s your story?”

Forseti blushed, suddenly shy.

“Well, I used to be a guidance counselor. But that job is very stressful. I was trying to help dozens of kids make crucial life decisions, and I was also in charge of the peer mediation program, which can get very intense once you start getting to the bottom of  _ why _ children cause problems. Some of them had such terrible home lives…” He trailed off, then shook his head to clear it. “Anyway, I barely made it five years before I quit. I’d rather deal with people yelling at me over coffee orders I didn’t even make all day.”

“Why do they always yell at the register folks and the managers, though? Like, it’s the barista- me- that makes the drinks, shouldn’t they just yell at me when I fuck up?”

“They probably would if you weren’t absolutely terrifying,” Loki drawled, sipping on his (very spiked) coffee. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Járnsaxa demanded.

“You’re six feet tall, built like a tree trunk, and talk like a truck driver. Do the math.”

“I DON’T TALK LIKE A FUCKIN’ TRUCK DRIVER, YOU FLAMING PIECE A SHIT!”

“Guys,  _ please _ ! One meal! Just one meal without fighting, that’s all I ask!”

So it went. Every Thursday, for months and months and months, they ate dinner together and bonded. Sif started opening up. She was gentle and kind, but firm. She was unperturbed by Loki’s pranks or by Járnsaxa’s rough nature, by Thor’s aggression or Forseti’s timidity. She was adaptable and dependable. She balanced each of the other four perfectly. And at times, the sadness behind her eyes dissipated, revealing a lively glow. She told the lifelong city dwellers stories about her childhood in the country. She was a good storyteller. She personally took the lead on getting Loki and Thor to source their ingredients locally whenever possible, encouraged Forseti to adopt a pet, and entertained Járnsaxa’s interest in farmwork and agriculture as a potential career path.

“Y’know, Sif, if you wanted to move back to the country some day, I’d come with you,” she said during one family dinner. Sif looked up from her plate, surprised.

“Really?”   
“Yeah! I mean, you said it yourself, it’s almost impossible to run a farm with fruits, vegetables, and animals totally by yourself. You’d need some help. And I think I’m suited for it. I’m strong and I like physical work. I like animals, too. And I wouldn’t really need to talk to anyone, so no scaring away customers. I think it’d be great!” She gasped. “Oh, we could get a little cottage with windchimes on the porch and make jams in the winter, it’d be so cute!” Forseti sighed longingly.

“That’s the dream. I’d love to plant flowers in a little greenhouse. A quiet life in the country sure sounds a lot better than the city…”

“I could chop so much wood!” Thor said. “I could do all the maintenance work. I could even build your grandparents a guest cottage on the property!”

“Sure would put your temper tantrums to good use,” Loki mumbled. Thor shot him a glare. “Anyway, you’d probably need somebody to run the business side of it. I haven’t ruined the coffee shop yet so I’d probably be okay with a farm. And while I’m a sleezy guy, I’m not a fuckin’ scumbag like your uncle. You’d have access to all the finances, I’d just make sure they go where they’re supposed to.”

Sif looked at each of them. All wayward people, brought together by random happenstance, dreaming about a future together. 

“I-If you’re serious about this, then… we could make it happen.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I haven’t been able to save much, and at this rate I’ll never be able to buy that kind of land on my own. But with five of us pitching in-”

“And selling off what’s quickly becoming a wildly successful coffee shop-” Loki included.

“-it could work,” Sif finished. “Not today, not tomorrow, but someday.”

“Someday,” they agreed.

That “someday” ended up being eight more years. The coffee shop became  _ fancy _ thanks to Sif’s insistence on using locally sourced ingredients, which attracted a younger, richer crowd than they were used to. The crew grew as more people were hired, and eventually they upgraded to a larger space nearby, which allowed for more seating, and more customers. The staff rotated frequently, as it tends to go in food service, but the Core Five remained. By the time Loki was ready to sell the business, they had made a huge name for themselves, and had even started selling merchandise. Contracts were written, money exchanged, and in a whirlwind of activity, Loki and Sif shared a quiet moment. 

“I want to show you something,” he’d said, inviting her into his office. On his computer was a real estate listing. “Is this your old farm?”

“Yes,” she breathed, stunned.

“It’s for sale. For this price, we’d have enough left over to renovate the house so it’ll be big enough for everyone. Including your grandparents.” She covered her mouth, understanding exactly where this conversation was going. “Would you like to buy back the family farm?”

They did the renovations before they moved. They wanted everything to be ready before Sif’s grandparents moved in with them. It would be too stressful to live in an active construction project, and Sif was adamant that it look as much like the home they remembered as possible when they arrived. Three more bedrooms and an extra bathroom and a half were added. The kitchen was expanded, and Thor added a big awning to the extended porch so they could sit in the shade on hot days. It was hard work, but before they knew it, moving day came. All five stood on the street together, arms wrapped around each other, the moving trucks waiting in the driveway to be unpacked. Sif’s eyes glittered with tears.

“We made it,” she whispered.

“We made it!” the others chorused. 


End file.
